


The "not-so-little" problem

by Grooot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, HP: EWE, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grooot/pseuds/Grooot
Summary: Three friends come together to work through a problem. The Minister for Magic has bowed to pressure from the populace and resurrected the archaic Marriage Law. But she has altered the Law in ways that are, for a better word, an issue for some members of the populace.





	1. The new Law

“But.....” The young man stammered in disbelief. He threw a sharp look at the woman next to him who had crossed her arms behind her head, staring at the ceiling. “You think this is funny Hermione.”  
  
“I don’t think it is funny Ron,” the woman replied. “I find it _hilarious_.” She smirked at him, emphasising the last word by drawing it out significantly.  
  
“I don’t know why you do, you’re affected too, and even worse than me!” He shot the last part at her angrily, seeking to wound, but the woman’s smile grew broader and she crossed her ankles on the coffee table, refusing to be drawn in.  
  
The other member of their party re-read the scroll in front of him, and polished his glasses for comedic effect.  
  
“I seem to remember someone telling me how insane I was to get married at eighteen-” he began.  
  
“Harry....just don’t.” Moaned Ron, his head falling into his hands.  
  
“...please Harry, _do_.” Contradicted Hermione cheerfully.  
  
“...I think, what was it you said? I was making a _big mistake_. And now who’s laughing? The Marriage Law is in and you are caught up in it.”  
  
“I don’t think Ron minds the Marriage Law so much,” Hermione hypothesised, “I think he drastically underestimated, like the rest of Wizarding society, how having a female Minister of Magic would change the application of it.”  
  
Historically, the Marriage Law had been brought in when Wizarding population growth stagnated or when squib numbers had soared due to inbreeding... _kissing cousins indeed_... Hermione mused to herself. The same conditions had arisen in current Wizarding Britain, with huge public outcry forcing the hand of Ministry to temporarily resurrect the law. The new Minister had changed some of the parts of the outdated law, dashing the dreams of quite a few elderly wizards who had perhaps thought they would pick up a teenage witch to keep them warm in their dotage. _Shudder_. For the first time in the law’s dubious history, wizards and witches in the 18 to 21 age range were exempt from the law entirely. Wizards and witches over 21 could only be matched with someone within 20 years of their age....but this went for both sexes.  
  
“She’s 43!” Ron shouted at Hermione. She rolled her eyes.  
  
“So?”  
  
“I’m 24!”  
  
“ _SO_?” Hermione repeated, seemingly endlessly fascinated by something caught under her fingernails.  
  
“But.....I......” Ron was struggling to fully enunciate his violent opposition to the situation. “I thought you of all people would be against a law this foul”. He finished lamely.  
  
Hermione took her feet off the table and sat up.  
  
“Oh I am. Don’t get me wrong. I think being prostituted and forced into some bizarre breeding program by a magical government is hideous. But I don’t think the law will stick and I think the Minister didn’t mean it to.” She said, Ron rolling his eyes and huffing at her.  
  
“Why not?” Harry asked. “The Ministry has all sorts of bizarre laws and this one has worked before.”  
  
“The Wizarding world is full of misogynistic shits,” Harry winced at her tone, but conceded the point in order to get through her reasoning. “This type of law typically is brought down by old creepy guys who make sure they match themselves and all their wrinkly old mates with young, vulnerable witches. Historically they haven’t even bothered to marry off most witches between 30-50, prime breeding age for magical folk! The Minister has made sure that firstly, any witch under the age of 21 is protected from these type of predators, secondly, any witch or wizard who isn’t heterosexual isn’t caught up in this and thirdly she’s made the priority to match up _witches_ with suitable partners, not the other way around.”  
  
Ron gaped at her.  
  
“So in conclusion.” Hermione finished, smirking at both the men. “Our lovely young Ron here has been matched with Persephone Allgood, a seemingly intelligent, professional witch of 43 who has yet to be married or have any children.”  
  
“I don’t get you.” Said Harry, unnecessarily as it turned out given the incomprehension on his face was particularly obvious.  
  
“It is pretty conspicuous that the majority of people calling for the law were wizards,” Hermione explained patiently, “and historically, when the law was brought in there was violent opposition from witches. But wizards in general were apparently fine being married off to witches who were forced, by law,” Hermione pointed out wrathfully “to have sex with them until they produced a magical child.”  
  
Hermione signed in frustration when it became clear that both men were now confused.  
  
“The Minister has changed the law in that the focus is now on pairing up older, professional witches with wizards that are most likely to produce magical offspring. Hence you being matched with an older witch. So there are many older wizards who weren’t matched at all, because they really aren't required to be. The old law was about male desire, dressed up as ‘saving the magical population’ - this one is focusing on witches, you know, the ones that actually have the babies? So the people that pushed to law so they could have an in-house sex slave have been thwarted. Thus, I predict that we will see, very shortly, a groundswell of support to overturn the law.”  
  
“And what if they don’t?” Demanded Ron.  
  
“Ok, well first, I don’t understand why you find the idea of marrying a 43 year old witch so loathsome.” Hermione pointed out. “Everyone thought it was fine when they were marrying off 18 year olds to 60 year wizards back in the day, but nooooooooo - flip the gender script and suddenly men are all clutching their pearls about the _age gap_.” Hermione finished witheringly, and Ron had the grace to look sheepish. Harry laughed.  
  
“And besides,” Hermione said, “They’ve attached an interesting form of a fidelity charm to the pairings.”  
  
“How interesting?” Asked Harry.  
  
“I think Ron may have already experienced the effects yes?” Hermione and Harry both turned to look at Ron, who blushed a very becoming pink.  
  
“Er..”  
  
“Let’s just say any wizard who has been matched to a witch may find it difficult to.....let’s say..... _perform_ with anyone else.”  
  
“Are you talking about-” Harry asked. Ron’s blush decided to move down his neck.  
  
“Oh yes.” Hermione grinned. “Alas, Ron’s little friend...”  
  
“Not so little thank you very much.” Ron cut in indignantly.  
  
“...will no longer ‘rise to the occasion’ for anyone but Persephone.” Hermione finished, and Ron sighed into his hand glumly, thinking dolefully about his aborted date the previous night that had spurred him to meet with his two best friends (and even if one happened to be the smartest witch in the wizarding world and could possibly suggest a charm around his not-so-little problem then what of it?).  
  
“You think men are that shallow?” Asked Harry doubtfully.  
  
“Not all men.” Hermione laughed to herself at that one. “But enough will be to want to chuck the whole thing out.”  
  
“So you aren’t worried about your situation then?” Asked Harry. “Because it is pretty bizarre to say the least.”  
  
“Bizarre and gross.” Said Ron, picking up Hermione’s scroll where the name Severus Snape was scribed as her match. “Married to a dead guy. So..what...a zombie?” He hazarded a guess.  
  
“Hardly.” Said Hermione. “No one found his body, so he obviously survived the Nagini attack and made himself scarce.” A sensible option, Hermione opined, given the public appeared equally split on calling for Snape’s head on a stick or putting his feet on a pedestal. "But the law has picked up on the fact he is alive, and apparently perfectly suited to be dolled out to me as a useful sperm donor." Ron shook his head in distaste but Harry, sharing Hermione's taste in dark humour, grinned.  
  
“You don’t seem worried.” Harry said.  
  
“I hardly think this will pull him out of hiding,” Hermione explained. “In any case, I doubt the law will last more than another few months and it will be repealed and he can remain unaffected.”  
  
“Unless he would prefer a working cock in the meantime.” Ron said, a little nastily. 

\------------------

Some time later, after a lot of ineffectual attempts on both Harry and Hermione’s part to soothe Ron, Hermione apparated back to her flat. She noticed immediately her wards had been breached and half-a-dozen offensive spells crowded the back of her mind as she cautiously moved inside, shield charm up. Nothing appeared amiss initially but Hermione could hear someone in her living room. She disillusioned herself non-verbally and moved slowly through the door.  
  
“Tea?” Asked Severus Snape from her lounge.  


	2. Equipment failure

“Well this is disappointing.” Said Hermione, cancelling her disillusionment spell.

“A feeling I am wholly familiar with.” Replied Snape, eating a - wait... was that her _favourite_ biscuit?

“Are you eating my Tim-Tams?” Asked Hermione, “My parents sent them from Australia and if you’ve eaten the last one I shall be indecently put out.”

Snape raised an eyebrow and pushed the packet towards her, she peeked to notice he’d only taken one. She helped herself, peered suspiciously at the steaming cup of tea he’d prepared and sat down.

“So.....” Hermione started.

“So....disappointing apparently.” Snape finished wryly.

“Oh don’t be like that.” Hermione sniffed. “I’d only just told someone this law wouldn’t be enough to drag you out of hiding and here you are, not less than four hours later, breaking into my house and stealing my biscuits. I loathe being wrong.”

“You don’t say”. Snape drawled, eyebrow remaining skyward. Hermione shrugged and sipped her tea which was irritatingly perfectly brewed.

“All right I’ll bite.” Hermione said, “Given apparently the person who actually owns the flat you broke into has to ask the questions. Why are you here?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t tell you why I was here,” Said Snape. “I just wanted to enjoy this delicious biscuit and your incredibly comfortable couch first.” He smiled crookedly and Hermione eyed him suspiciously from under her lashes.

In some ways he hadn’t changed much from when she had seen him some seven or so years ago, but wizards and witches were typically so hard to pinpoint on age. He still wore his hair longer, clipping his jawline and she was slightly mollified to feel her annoyance soften when he tucked one side behind an ear. He was wearing muggle clothes, and Hermione could see the scar on his neck rising pink and white above his collar.

“See anything you like?” Snape smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Let me guess, Snape Junior gave you the boneless snake impression and here you are, on my couch, proposing undying love or at least an approximation of it.” She said. Snape coughed on a mouthful of tea.

“Snape junior?” He goggled at her, eyes wide. Hermione was was inexplicably pleased to see she’d finally been able to render Professor Snape speechless. He stared at her for another minute before bursting into a rich, loud laugh. Hermione was startled at first, she could not recall a time ever where she had heard him laugh like that. It was a nice laugh she thought, and one she would never associate with her memory of him, which made her laugh herself.

“You’re a lot more bolshie now.” Said Snape finally.

“I’m a lot more everything now.” Hermione retorted, which set them both off again. When they finished laughing there was a brief period that could only be rendered less awkward by more tea and definitely another biscuit.

“I can’t say that I didn’t notice the delightful new charm.” Snape admitted sheepishly. Hermione felt slightly vindicated that she was right about one thing, but irritated she’d been wrong in her earlier assumptions about what would have driven him to come out of wherever he had been.

“Are you really telling me all the Wizengamot had to do to smoke you out of your foxhole was to stop you getting laid?” Asked Hermione. She’d long discovered in her post-school conversations with Draco (who had improved drastically once he’d decided to stop being a blood supremacist twat) that being direct was best with Slytherins, otherwise they had a way of twisty-turny squirming out of things.

“Not exactly.” Snape shifted uncomfortably, Hermione was finding it a mind-bend comparing this laughing, half-smiling, chatty Snape with the dour, glowering figure from school. He even had a tan! She thought to herself, or maybe just wasn’t trapped in a dungeon twenty-four hours a day, she surmised. It was interesting, Hermione thought to herself, how the child Hermione remembered Snape’s prominent hooked nose, greasy hair and dark, deep-set eyes. The man sitting in front of Hermione looked, to her eyes, quite normal. A normal, average man with a nose that probably tended more towards Roman than not and who’s dark eyes were currently watching her warily.

“Did you wear a glamour at school?” Hermione asked suddenly.

“Erm...no?” Snape said, clearly completely discombobulated at the turn of the conversation.

“You’re...different than what I remember.” Hermione tried to explain. He snorted an amused laugh.

“I’d hope so. I was trying to blend in with a group of murdering elitist psychopaths when you last saw me.”

“True.” Hermione agreed.

“Besides, adults tend to change less than children and teenagers.” He said, blatantly appraising her.

“Just so you know before you open your mouth.” Hermione said. “Potential spouses should tend towards saying flattering things.” Snape laughed again.

“Duly noted.” He said, but he didn’t say anything about what he thought of her now. Which left her feeling both disappointed and curious.

“How much do you know about the new law?” He asked her.

“A little.” Admitted Hermione, but their eyes met and she knew, that he knew, that she meant _everything_.

“The fidelity charm only affects men.” Snape mused. Hermione nodded.

“Close, rather the fidelity charm was cast to only target wizards. That’s right, all my witchy bits are, and will remain, in perfect working order. Completely unaffected. I can shag my to my heart’s content. Shagity shag shag all day long.”

“Right.”

“I was mostly joking,” Hermione said, worrying at the stony look on his face. “I assume you see no humour in the Minister’s changes?”

“On the contrary. It's brilliant. It’ll never last, surely people...wizards that is....are already demanding it be repealed.” Snape said, his face eased slightly as he spoke, but a worry line remained between his eyes. He wasn't all average, Hermione thought, in fact he was more attractive than she originally thought. Oh Merlin, Hermione thought to herself, Did I just check out Professor Snape? I need to get laid myself, she chastised herself, then suddenly realised he wasn't speaking anymore. Oh Christ he doesn't still use Legilimency does he? She thought wildly. Ahhhh STOP THINKING. Stop mixing deities! LALALALA.

“Pardon?” She asked, “Sorry. I got a bit distracted.”

This Snape was not as highly strung as past Snape, Hermione noticed, as ,current Snape acknowledged her apology with a wave of the hand and a run of the fingers through the hair. As opposed, she imagined, to a nasty hex in the back, something she would have deemed very likely of past Snape.

“I said that you would also be aware that only witches hold right of refusal.”

Hermione nodded. Another change wrought by the Minister meant that witches were presented with a potential match, whom they could meet and then decide to commit to, or...not. An unsuitable wizard would then return to the pool of potential suitors.

“So you want me to refuse you?” Hermione asked, a little affronted. Really. Grown, almost attractive, men that potentially could become more interesting than less, had no business breaking into her house, helping themselves to her lovely biscuits and asking to be released from magic romantic entanglements from her. She probably should have hexed him. Ugh MEN.

“I didn't say that.” Snape said hastily, looking decidedly nervous, which was promising. “Look,” he said leaning forward across the coffee table towards her. He’d rolled up the sleeves on his button-up shirt, revealing wiry forearms and the hint of black ink. Hermione did look. It was nicer than she’d thought it would be.

“So... I remembered the House Elves.” Snape began. Hermione held up a hand with a grimace.

“No fucking thank you very much. I've had enough in my lifetime of people telling me what a complete arse I made of myself over that.” She had kept her S.P.E.W stuff, tucked away in her school case, as a reminder of good intentions and the road to hell and all that.

“You misunderstand me,” Snape continued, he huffed a breath and pursed his lips as if wondering how to phrase his next sentence. Hermione let her eyes linger on the lips....interesting. “Those from magical families never even questioned whether House Elves actually liked being house elves. I mean, they abuse themselves continually in response to any criticism. I guess, with your Muggle background you saw them differently. You saw something that resembled muggle world slavery, you questioned what the relationship between elves and wizards and witches actually was.”

“Exactly!” Hermione exclaimed, pleased. “But..” her face fell, “If you agreed with my questions, why didn't you, I mean,” she stopped talking.

“Er, evil double-crossing spy remember?” Snape reminded her. “I also had a lot on my mind, if you remember, at the time.”

“I guess.” Hermione conceded a little sullenly, recalling all the crap she received from her classmates about it.

“It made me think you don't tend to take things on face value,” Snape said, “...and that you were, at heart...”

“A sucker?” Offered Hermione.

“I was going to say kind.” Said Snape.

“Same thing to a Slytherin?” Hermione said cheekily. Snape rolled his eyes.

“Look, I agree the laws won't be around long, but I was doing well laying low and this thing has pulled me out somehow.”

“Its because the original spells used at a base are so old.” Said Hermione, which Snape frowned at, but then shrugged in apparent agreement.

“You could easily have revealed me but didn't. But if you refuse me the next witch may not be so kind.”

“You could be a hero.” Said Hermione. “They've put a plaque up at Hogwarts and McGonagall had a portrait done.”

“Does the plaque mention the murdering and torturing?” Snape asked sarcastically.

“Not as a major focus.” Hermione replied matching his tone.

“I just... please Granger.” Snape asked, and the use of her name-even the last one-undid her a little. “Please just let it ride out the until the end of the laws.”

“Is that why you came here?” She asked, “I had already let out match sit for a week and half without refusal.”

“It's probably what gave me hope you'd listen instead of hexing my face off.” Said Snape. “Plus it took me a good half an hour to crack your wards, impressive.”

Hermione grinned at the compliment, then caught herself and laughed.

“You dirty snake! I've spent enough time with Draco to spot when someone is blowing smoke up my arse.”

Snape laughed as well.

“I thought you would still be a sucker for praise from a teacher, that’s my mistake.”

“You’re a potential suitor, so what were you planning on teaching me exactly?” Hermione asked innocently then watched in amazement as Snape blushed. “Never mind, it was obviously incredibly degenerate.” She added and he didn't meet her eyes when he smiled.

“Speaking of which, can you handle the enforced celibacy?” Hermione asked.

“I'm not an animal Granger. I'll be fine.”

“But you were caught out by the charm.” Insisted Hermione.

“I'll admit being....lets say....a bit surprised by the failure of equipment mid-flight.” Snape acquiesced, suddenly completely focused on her Jackson Pollock print that hung, slightly askew, on the opposite wall. Hermione smothered a giggle.

“I hope all passengers were evacuated safely.” Hermione liked being able to banter with someone who understood muggle references. Harry was fun like that but Ron was hopeless.

“Thankfully, the back-up equipment performed as expected and all passengers arrived satisfactorily at their expected destination.” Said Snape, drumming (unconsciously? Purposely? Hermione couldn't decide) his long fingers on the coffee table surface. Her mind decided to extrapolate on emergency back-up procedures, her eyes drifting from his fingers to his mouth. Ok, that was definitely a sign she needed to get laid. The silence stretched out between them briefly, and Hermione wondered if she should open a window, was it getting too warm in here? Maybe she was getting a virus as her mouth felt dry. She sipped her tea and Snape sipped his, eyeing her expectantly. She sighed.

“Look you don't have to worry.” Hermione promised. “I won't refuse the match and I won't go blabbing around who I got. Ron and Harry know-stop that!” Snape face-palmed “But they won't tell anyone. I promise.”

“Thank you.” Said Snape uncomfortably.

“So that's it?” Hermione asked.

“Yes.” Snape said, “thanks for the tea and biscuits.”

“That you helped yourself to” noted Hermione.

“Quite. And..for not ratting me out..So...Um... I'll see myself out.” Snape said. He seemed pained briefly then stood up and stuck his hand out. Hermione stared at it briefly before realising he meant her to shake it. She did and his palm was warm against hers, his grip strong. He smiled his wonky smile, and Hermione smiled back and then he released her and apparated away.

“Bloody hell.” Exclaimed Hermione to the empty room. She decided that the afternoon’s experience had been so odd it was worth at least two more biscuits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thanks to everyone who thought it was good enough for more. I’ve plotted out the story which may stretch to around 4 chapters. Hope you all like the Snape\Hermione chat. I know they are a little OOC, but it IS supposed to be funny and that’s how I thought of them.


	3. Mates and dates

It was three weeks after Snape’s visit, PS thought Hermione to herself... _Post_ _Snape_. It seemed like a particularly bizarre dream, surely he hadn’t sat on her couch and used air travel as a metaphor for...well...? But then, people weren’t always what they originally seemed, Hermione had pondered. She would never had dreamed in a thousand years she would ever had voluntarily spent time with Draco Malfoy that didn’t consist of her beating his pointed face into the floor, but they got along quite well now.

Harry and Hermione had arranged to meet Ron for coffee the morning after his date with Persephone. Harry thought perhaps the pub _after_ the date was a better idea but they’d agreed that although they'd all attempted at one point or another to drown war memories in alcohol, they'd all given it up as a Bad Idea. Besides, Hermione had suggested, if the date went spectacularly well, “Little Ron” would probably be enjoying the date far too much to support leaving to go to the pub. Harry had pointed out it would be worthwhile if Hermione could go a whole day keeping her mind out of the gutter, a promise which neither Hermione or her mind was interested in making.

Hermione was reading The Daily Prophet over a very good coffee.

“It’s because this place is owned by an Australian.” She told a Harry when he also groaned in deep admiration after his first sip. “They know coffee.”

“You’re unreasonably obsessed with Australia.” Teased Harry. “Hopeless. They haven’t even won a Qudditch World Cup since 1966.”

Hermione visited her parents in Australia at least twice a year since she had returned their memories. Thankfully they had been largely sanguine about the charm she had cast, given the likely alternate of being tortured to death by Death Eaters. When she stayed with them in Melbourne, they often wandered around finding many eclectic laneway cafes, all with excellent coffee. On her last visit, to the immense delight of all, she’d brought back tailored robes for Harry, Ron and Ginny from the Australian National Quidditch Team. Hermione wasn’t mad for Quidditch like the others, but even she had thought the golden stitched Kangaroo was adorable. Ginny said she wore them to her practice games all the time. Ginny was currently away with her team the Harpies, and Harry was always a little more mopey when she was.

“I literally can’t believe you read that trash.” Harry pointed at the paper. Hermione shook her head.

“How else can I follow the thoughts of the masses?” She said, flipping the paper to show an angry old wizard shouting on the front page under the headline MARRIAGE LAW SHAME.

“So what are they saying?” Harry asked. Hermione turned the paper around again, skimming it with her eyes.

“Not much, Marriage Law making witches into whores blah blah, wizards being discriminated against, Law ruining ‘proper witches’ for ‘good wizards’. All as expected.”

“Did they really say whores?”

“I was paraphrasing. But I was also reading between the lines. A lot of wizards hate the law.”

“As predicted.” Harry said. “Know-it-all.” He said fondly to Hermione.

“Damn straight.” Agreed Hermione, and they high-fived.

“I bet you’re glad Snape hasn’t popped his head up and started sniffing around.” Said Harry, who held quite dissonant feelings about Snape since the final battle. He’d spoken with Hermione a lot about it, and tried to explain that while he was completely staggered and a little in awe at the sacrifice Snape had made during his life, he found it hard to see past the cruel mask Snape had worn at school. Hermione had assured him that if Snape had wanted adoration, he wouldn’t have been a very good double agent. Nasty people can do good things, Hermione had told him, and good people can do nasty things. People were rarely all good or all bad. Harry didn’t have to love him, Hermione had said, in order to respect what he did for him. Harry swung between hero worship and peevish dislike, and apparently today was dislike.

“I told you before this wouldn’t draw him out.” Said Hermione distractedly as she browsed the paper. Hermione had also learnt a lot about the Art of Lying from Draco. He assured her that sometimes just restating things you said in earlier conversations worked better than an outright lie. It gave the impression you’d answered them, without saying anything new at all. God bless his black little heart, she thought affectionately.

“Speaking of Marriage Law...where’s Ron?” Wondered Harry, Hermione looked up from the paper and cast a non-verbal Tempus. She thought, not for the first time, that the Wizarding world could benefit from more clocks and she _really_ had to buy a watch.

“Ooooooo he is late.”   
  
“I bet you ten galleons they shagged.” Proposed Harry.

“Oh come on now.” Scolded Hermione, Harry looked briefly chastised until she grinned. “No way. Twenty said they didn’t.”

“Just because you didn’t find him shaggable.” Said Harry, “Doesn’t mean Persephone doesn’t.”

“She might, I just don’t think she’s going to hit him up the first date. She’s got the power at the moment..for once.” Hermione said, and they both looked up as a very excited looking Weasley entered the cafe.

“Get your money ready.” Harry whispered loudly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron ordered a coffee and sat down, smiling so broadly Hermione’s face ached in sympathy.

“She’s brilliant.” Ron said even as Harry opened his mouth. Harry closed it again.

“She’s the Defence Coach for the Montrose Magpies. The MONTROSE MAGPIES!” Ron shouted gleefully, letting his head fall back dramatically. Harry and Hermione shared a look.

“That’s bloody cool.” Harry said, and Hermione nodded, because it was best practice to agree with Harry and Ron regarding Very Important Opinions On Quidditch.

“We talked for hours, she’s amazing. Then they shut the restaurant so we went back to hers-“ Harry reached out to Hermione palm up.

“And then we played three games of chess. She whooped my arse every time!” Ron didn’t notice Hermione’s smile triumphant smile as Harry dug out his wallet.

“Did her walking frame get in the way?” Hermione asked innocently.

“Oh shut up, she’s so cool. She knows everything about Qudditch, she even knows who Ginny is!”

“I honestly cannot stress how more perfect she sounds for you, and how very very right I am and everyone should listen to me all the time.” Hermione said. Harry mouthed “know-it-all” at her as he passed her the twenty.

“We’re going out again tomorrow night.” Ron told them both, smoothing back his hair.

“You make sure you don’t just give it away,” Said Harry. “Make her work for it.”

“Witches don’t respect slutty wizards.” Hermione advised, patting him patronisingly on the wrist.

————

A few days passed which saw Hermione meeting Draco Malfoy for a drink in the evening. She hung up her outer robe and saw him perched at the bar. He was wearing his hair very short these days and it suited him well. Draco had grown it long once, but when he had turned around to greet her he looked so much like his father that Hermione had had a panic attack in the middle of the bar. The flick of the blonde mane and his countenance took her immediately back to Bellatrix’s torture in the Manor. Draco had cut it all off that night.

“I ordered you a Gin and Tonic.” Said Draco as she pecked him on the cheek and sat beside him. “How’s Weasley getting on with the Law?”  
  
“Tolerably well.” Updated Hermione. “She works in professional Quidditch.”

“Right, so dress robes at the ready for a wedding.” Smirked Draco, sipping his drink. Draco, being gay, was unaffected by the Law, but being Draco meant he was affected by the tremendously interesting gossip it generated.

“And your mother?” Hermione asked. Narcissa was considered a very eligible witch. Lucius had avoided Azkaban by providing lengthy details about every Death Eater hideout in Europe and how to break the protective wards. He was nothing if but a consummate survivor, but even Lucius was broken.....by the war, by his earlier time in Azkaban and by the prolonged duress of living twenty four hours a day under the punitive eye of Voldemort. He had died almost two years ago. Hermione went to the memorial service but found it difficult to drag up any truly positive feelings about the man. She could forgive an adult for stupid mistakes, but she was angry for what he had done to Draco and how his twisted upbringing had lead Draco to walk a dark and lonely path when he was only a child. She also was still fairly pissed about being tortured in his house. Still, Draco had loved him, and therefore she went to the service and even brought flowers. For one last private petty shot at him, she’d ensured that the beautiful white rose bouquet was purchased in muggle London with muggle money.

“She’s been on a few dates. But she’s not really interested.” Draco said.

“She might need a break from men telling her what to do and who to be.” Suggested Hermione, who remembered Narcissa’s bleak expression as she’d been dragged in front of her crazed sister. Their eyes had met briefly then, and Hermione knew that in that moment, both of them had wished to be a thousand miles away from the Manor, albeit for different reasons.

“You’re probably right.” Draco agreed. He took a sip of his drink. “Have you arranged a meeting with your match yet? I can’t remember, who did you say it was?” Hermione shot him a look, his nonchalance was a little too perfect,

“God no way.” She said. “I’m not interested. I didn’t even keep the scroll.”

“Mmhmm.” Draco sounded unconvinced but didn’t press her further.

After their catch-up, Hermione apparated not far from her local shops, so she could pick up some milk and walked the few blocks home as it was a lovely evening. She was laughing to herself remembering something Draco had said as she walked up the stairs to her flat. As she went to unlock and open her door she kicked something with her foot. Hermione looked down.

An unopened packet of Tim-Tams was propped up against the frame


	4. Normality is overrated

Given the biscuit themed advanced warning, Hermione was not at all surprised to see Snape sitting on her couch once more. He was wearing muggle clothes again, another buttoned shirt-soft grey this time-and dark pants. He’d put on weight since Hogwarts, no..... Hermione reassessed, he’d put on muscle. It looked like it would be nice under that grey shirt.

“This is bordering on creepy.” Hermione said, mainly to distract herself and her libido, but she sat down and took the cup of tea he held out.

“I’m not great with boundaries.” Admitted Snape.

“One of your many charms?” Offered Hermione.

“I’m trying to re-learn normality.”

“Oh don’t, please.” Said Hermione, “Normality is completely overrated.”

“I was just checking in...to see if you wanted to change your mind about the refusal given the law is still hanging around.” Snape asked the question lightly, but he was tense in the shoulders.

Hermione shrugged and shook her head, causing Snape to wilt slightly into the cushions, possibly in relief.

“How are your passengers coping with the grounded flights?” Asked Hermione mischievously. Snape picked idly at some unravelling threads on her throw rug.

“Oh. Ah. Yes.....Well, I think they’ve decided to fly with another carrier.” Snape plaited the threads on the throw.

“That’s a shame.” Particularly, thought Hermione, given how nimbly those fingers were twisting the delicate strands of wool. She could just imagine those fingers....no...that’s it Hermione, breathe......think of something unsexy. Her mind filled with images of a few years before when Ron had, on a whim, shaved his head. Ugh, that’ll do.

“Well they weren’t a frequent flyer in any case.” Snape drained his tea.

“Their loss I guess.” Hermione said, and Snape caught her gaze in surprise.

“If you say so.”

“Maybe I do.” Said Hermione playfully, and Snape scoffed.

“So, we’re still okay?” He asked, obviously deciding to ignore her comment.

“It’s fine.” Placated Hermione. “But can you please stop breaking into my flat? That would have been terribly awkward if I’d brought someone back.”

“Oh of course.” Said Snape. “The ‘shagity shag shag all day long’.”

“Exactly.” Hermione said loftily. “With breaks for eating and sleeping of course.” Snape laughed and Hermione grinned, she could easily become addicted to surprising that laugh out of him.

“You’ve improved tremendously Granger.” He said, smiling openly at her.

“I actually haven’t. I’ve always been tremendous, you’ve just caught up.” Hermione teased. He rubbed a hand over his mouth which of course then made Hermione immediately think of his hand and his mouth, and perhaps both in combination, applied to her....oh my god Hermione get it together....bald Ron, bald Ron...focus on that.

“Thank you for replenishing my biscuit supply.” She said, filling in the silence that was stretching out between them.

“Small thanks for your assistance with the law really.” Said Snape. It was the reference to the law which seemed to trigger his decision to leave. He stood and their used cups and the forgotten carton of milk floated into the kitchen.

“Wandless and non-verbal.” Said Hermione, “Show off.”

“Maybe I was trying to impress you.” Said Snape, but he twisted in the air and was gone before she could shake off the surprise and say anything in response.

Hermione was rescued from examining the moment too minutely by an owl at her window. She gave it half a slice of ham she had in the fridge and took the scroll. It was Draco, inviting her to dinner on Friday. Hermione pursed her lips, damn it, he knew.

————

“We smashed the Tornados.” Ginny gleefully recounted to Hermione as they ran. “Like, _smashed_ them. It was brilliant.”

“You’d be nearly top of the table right?” Hermione said, and they rounded the corner and began the return journey to Grimmauld Place. Ginny skipped slightly in delight and picked up the place.

“Oh yes we are, just under the _Magpies_.” She said meaningfully to Hermione.

“And how’s that going?” Hermione asked, a little breathlessly, the pace was a little fast for her now.

“Ron’s in lurrrrrrrrve.” Ginny laughed. “Mum wants to meet her.”

“Doyouknowher?” Hermione managed to gasp out in one breath, Ginny was running easily.

“Not really. I’ve asked around, everyone adores her. My coach said if we’d had the money we would have tried to poach her from the Pies years ago. She’s reputed to be the best.”

They ran in silence until they reached 12 Grimmauld Place, mostly because Hermione couldn’t spare any oxygen for talking, as she needed it for staying upright.

“All right there Hermione?” Harry asked as she staggered into the house. Kreacher, who had thawed slightly to Hermione over the years, had put out water for them both.

“Fine. Your wife tried to murder me.” Hermione muttered, flopping down and drinking. Harry kissed said murderer who was stretching out her calves.

“Stay for lunch?” Harry asked.

“I’d love too but I’m having dinner with Draco.” Hermione declined regretfully. “And I’ve got a heap of brewing to do before then.”

Hermione had started brewing and selling potions initially for a bit of extra galleons on the side but her fastidious nature and reputation quickly led to it being a full time occupation. She sold to The Apothecary, Slug and Jiggers and was currently negotiating to also sell to St Mungo’s. She’d need a bigger laboratory than the one she had set up in her rental in Diagon Alley she supposed, if she won the contract. She was particularly proud of the contraceptive potion she’d developed. Unlike other potions of that type, it also eased menstrual cramps, had no side effects and didn’t taste like bin water. It was her highest selling potion. She was currently working on a potion specifically for post-menopausal witches. It hadn’t escaped Hermione’s notice that since the Potions Guild was a total sausage fest, potions targeting women were both in short supply and underdeveloped. It gave her some satisfaction to think a lot of those sausages would be currently on ice, so to speak, since the implementation of the Marriage Law.

“It’s so great how well your potions are doing.” Said Ginny. “If he was still alive, even old Snapey would have been forced to grudgingly admit you weren’t a _total_ failure.”

“Indeed he would.” Hermione giggled and purposely avoided the meaningfully pointed look Harry was trying to share with her.

After completing her brewing responsibilities, showering and dressing in a pair of her nicest robes, Hermione apparated to Draco’s house. Draco currently lived in a lovely cottage on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. He stayed there to provide support to his mother in upkeep of the house and grounds. Hermione only ever met Draco at the cottage, he had thankfully never asked her inside the Manor, she wasn’t sure she could have borne it.

As usual, Draco had a beautiful meal served and Hermione found everything exquisite as always. She wondered when Draco would bring up what he was so obviously dying to ask. It turned out Hermione had to wait until they were sipping a liquor in his sitting room.

“I know you were matched with Severus.” Draco said suddenly. Hermione looked at him, a little uncertain what to say. “Is he alive? Have you seen him?”

“Would you really expect him to come find me if he was alive?” Hermione said and Draco grimaced.

“Ah.....deflection via a question. That was a very Slytherin answer Hermione.”

“I learnt from the best.”

“I mean him no harm. He..” Draco looked away. “He was very kind to me when I grew up and he cared for me very much, even when I didn’t particularly deserve it. Probably more than my own father. I...if there was any chance I could see him again...” Hermione gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I have seen him,” Hermione admitted and Draco turned to her, his face alight. “But you have to understand, I can’t tell you where he is as I don’t know. He basically just broke into my flat to talk to me.” Draco smiled a bit sadly.

“That certainly sounds like him. Is he well?”

“He seems fine, and happy. At least happier than I’ve ever remembered. It’s like he is a different person. Maybe it’s for the best we don’t know where he is.” Draco shrugged at that.

“If you see him again can you please tell him I asked after him?”

“I will. If he does...come back.” Hermione promised. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story completely mapped out now, two more chapters to go after this!
> 
> Again, I know everyone is a bit OOC in this story but it’s all been done for a) comic effect and b) my head canon....


	5. Potion brewing

Two months Post Snape, Hermione won one of St Mungo’s potion supply contracts. Her small potions business was going to expand. Progress on her post-menopause potion was going well, and she felt she would soon be ready to add it to her range. She had received no less than forty owls offering exorbitant sums for her to develop a potion to circumvent the fidelity charm. Hermione wasn’t even sure if that was possible, but for once in her life she was presented with a problem that she had zero interest in researching and solving. Leave it to the wrinklies in the Guild, she thought savagely to herself. And with a small bit of pleasure she incinerated the requests and returned a generic reply to all of them that claimed she was very sorry she couldn’t be of assistance and directed them to the Head of the Potions Guild. She knew for a fact he had been matched with Parvati Patil, who was currently dating a delectable young man who taught at Beauxbatons. Parvati, who had briefly pondered joining the Guild but had been put off by the pervasive yet unspoken anti-witch vibe, had apparently not officially refused the match, but had subsequently refused receipt of every pleading owl sent by the Head. The Head was getting no head. Hermione mused to herself.

The first order from St Mungo’s was of a much larger volume than she’d attempted before. She’d decided to call in emergency support for this order and work out something permanent before the next order came in. Harry was going to come around after his Auror shift, he’d demonstrated his ability to follow brewing instructions satisfactorily during his brief time as custodian of Snape’s potions text. And Hermione trusted him to help. Draco was meeting with Minerva today at Hogwarts regarding a donation to the school and scholarships for muggle-born students sorted into Slytherin, but had promised to pop around afterwards. He had always shown an aptitude for potions. He and Hermione had spoken in the past about him investing some money in her business and sharing the profits. She made a mental note to revisit this with him given the current circumstances. Unfortunately, both Ginny and Ron were away, Ginny with the Harpies and Ron was travelling with Persephone and the Pies. Things were getting serious with them.

Hermione was armed with a double-shot coffee, a baklava and a shrunken vat of Thai green curry under stasis to feed her recruits with later. She was reviewing the order as she entered her lab.

“I like your alterations to the contraceptive potion.” Said Snape, who was sitting at her main brewing table reading her lab journal.

“This is another boundaries thing I think.” Said Hermione, putting down her shrunken vat of curry and baklava, she figured she’d keep hold of the coffee, the situation suggested she might need it.

“Is it?” He asked absently.

“I’m pretty sure I asked you nicely _not_ to break in.” Hermione admonished, but she was smiling.

“To your flat. You didn’t mention your lab.” Said Snape, marking his place in her journal with his index finger and looking up.

“It didn’t occur to me that you wouldn’t have thought to generalise that request to all my abodes.” Laughed Hermione.

“Ah.” Snape looked abashed, but Hermione noted he hadn’t relinquished her journal.

“So....checking in?” Hermione asked. Snape nodded. He was wearing a green long sleeved tee and seeing him wearing colour was traumatising the inner Hermione child. The outer Hermione adult was making an incredibly lewd suggestion about getting him out of it. Business Hermione told them both to bog off as there was a shit-tin of brewing to do and no time to mess around with adolescent worry or unrequited lust.

“It’s been two months.” He said, as if in explanation.

“All fine with me.” Said Hermione. She unrolled the scroll where she had designed an incredibly detailed, and yes, colour coded plan for today. There was so much work to complete she’d worried she wouldn’t get through it all, and plotting the days activities out almost to the minute had been very soothing. She looked up at Snape, who had come over to look at the scroll.

“Impressively detailed.” Snape commented, “But perhaps you’ll need more than five minutes for bathroom breaks.” Hermione threw him a withering side-eye, which inexplicably appeared to amuse him greatly.

“How did you get in here without anyone recognising you?” She asked. Snape shrugged.

“No one is actively looking for me, they all think I’m dead. I just used a Notice-Me-Not. It will hold for short periods. Speaking of short periods,” Snape tapped her scroll meaningfully with his finger. “You’re three minutes behind.”

“Oh bugger! Oh....um...I don’t suppose you’d do me a massive favour before you apparate out on me again?” Hermione asked, as a Great Idea hit her.

“What kind of favour?” Asked Snape suspiciously, so he hadn’t changed _that_ much.

“I’ve just got a massive order from St Mungo’s, hence the detailed planning. Harry and Draco are coming later to help,” Snape’s left eyebrow lifted skyward, “But if you could spare an hour or so to dig in and help me prep that would be amazing.”

“Of course.” He said. “But I’ll need to leave before the others show.” Hermione did a celebratory fist-pump and went over to her storeroom.

Thirty minutes later they were both set up and preparing ingredients in unison.

“Are you...friends with Draco?” Snape asked Hermione as he chopped.

“Yes. I decided to bury the hatchet, and before you ask, no not directly into his head.”

“I’m surprised, given my memory of you both at Hogwarts.”

“Maybe I punched some sense into him.” Said Hermione, “Because he turned into a decent human being after...” She faltered here, not quite sure how to phrase it.

“After the war.” Finished Snape for her.

“Yes. And I was sick of everyone hating each other.” Hermione added, the rhythmic chopping sounds next to her paused slightly, then continued on.

“Draco knows about our match.” Hermione blurted out and she heard Snape sigh.

“Lucius always ran a solid network of informants in the Ministry, perhaps Draco inherited them.”

“He really wants to see you. I think he misses you, he said you meant...mean...a lot to him.”

“Perhaps I did once.” Agreed Snape slowly, “But I think it’s better if I stay dead. I feel that I want to keep... that person... dead.”

“No one says you can’t just be...well....this person.” Said Hermione, she stopped slicing and gestured at him.

“I actually can’t remember a time where I could be myself here,” Said Snape thoughtfully, “It took me a long time to figure out who that was, and being back is messing around with it.” They stared at each other until Hermione broke the moment by looking at her hands, mostly to stop herself cutting off a finger.

They both returned to their ingredients. Hermione started talking again, but this time she started to tell Snape about her potions business, what she had done and the current work she was testing. Snape listened carefully, and offered some insightful suggestions into how she could improve potency, increase half-life and reduce latency. Hermione scribed these all down in her journal so she would remember.

They had a brief rest which involved splitting the baklava and Hermione telling Snape about the desperate owls begging for her to rescue their cocks from their Ministry enforced slumber.

“Desperate times cause for desperate measures.” Snape laughed. Hermione pushed him gently in the arm.

“Then the Law can’t hold for much longer.” Said Hermione, “Or they’ll be trying spells.” She mimed casting Wingardium Leviosa on her groin. He rolled his eyes.

With Snape working with her, Hermione had got through a large amount of ingredient preparation, and she was confident when the boys showed up they could get straight into brewing.

“Thank you.” Said Hermione, touching Snape’s arm lightly again. He didn’t pull away, and her libido decided it was an excellent moment to re-emerge. “I really appreciate you helping me.”

“I figured I owed you Granger.”

“You could call me Hermione.” Said Hermione, “Even Draco does.”

“Ok....Hermione.” Said Snape, a little awkwardly.

“How about if the law is still around in two weeks you come to my flat for dinner?” Asked Hermione. “To check in, without the breaking and entering.” Snape laughed.

“Ok.” He had finished cleaning the knives and mortar and pestle he had used and put them back in the storeroom. He started to twist...

“Goodbye Severus.” Said Hermione and she felt the gamble was worth it as she saw his shocked visage disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to Thepurplewombat who very very kindly offered to beta the WHOLE story. All chapters already online will be rid of grammatical errors!
> 
> One more chapter to go......


	6. The Law is repealed

Two months, one week and four days Post Snape, the Marriage Law was repealed. The male dominated Ministry had held an emergency out-of-session sitting to debate the law. The motion to repeal the law was carried almost unopposed. There was only one dissenting vote. The solo female Ministry official had been making out like a bandit on the Law, and she announced she’d hadn’t had so much fun in years and argued vehemently to make the current Law permanent.

Hermione was reading the Daily Prophet aloud to Harry as they waited for Ron to join them. She read him the Minister’s statement under the headline MINISTER CAVES ON SHAM LAW. The Minister’s face turned and smiled smugly on the cover, over and over and over.

“So, the Minister said it was a mistake to bring it back, they’ve listened to the people and repealed it.” Summarised Harry.

“Yes! A mistake to bring it _back_.” Said Hermione meaningfully.

“I’ve missed the point haven’t I?” Guessed Harry, who had known Hermione long enough to recognise when he was being thick.

“It’s reading between the lines again.” Explained Hermione. “So the Minister said she listened to the populace and their violent opposition to the Marriage Law. So she ensured it was repealed and could not be brought back.”

“Oh.” Said Harry. “Ohhhhhhhh!” He had the lightbulb moment. “So this means....”

“Bye-bye Marriage Law forever.” Hermione said smugly. “The Minister laid a perfect little trap for all those disgusting old pervs. They were foaming at the mouth to ditch this iteration of the law as it didn’t fit in with their plans, not realising that she’d tied in making this Law and any versions of it dead in the water.”.

“She wasn’t Ravenclaw by any chance?” Harry mused, “That’s clever.”

“She was Hufflepuff.” Hermione said. “She’s saved many future witches from facing government mandated marital sexual assault with this action. I’m one hundred percent girl crushing all over her.”

“You’d be a great Minister for Magic as well Hermione.” Harry said thoughtfully, “This is exactly the sort of thing you would have done.” Hermione squeezed his hand happily, Harry gave his best compliments when he wasn’t trying to.

Ron was late to coffee, but he had exciting news. Marriage Law or no Marriage Law, he and Persephone were engaged to be married.

————————

Draco had agreed to invest in Hermione’s business and she had rented a larger shop in Diagon Alley and completely decked it out. She loved it. She had brought Ron on part-time to manage her books and deal with clients. He had quit his job as an Auror as he and Persephone had decided it would be easier if Ron stayed at home with the children they were already planning. Persephone’s job was pretty full on but Ron had told Hermione that Persephone quitting her job would have been a Great British Disaster. She had been approached to fill the role of Defence Coach of the national team. Something a proud Ron had told Harry and Hermione on no less than four occasions. Each time they exclaimed excitedly and passed on their congratulations like it was the first time. They were revelling in his happiness. Molly Weasley was in raptures and the Magpies had confused a few of their opponents when they turned up to their last game resplendent in knitted jumpers courtesy of the Weasley matriarch. Part-time work would suit Ron if they had kids and Hermione had already put aside money so she could pay him paternity leave for a few weeks if and when he might need it.. She hadn’t heard from Severus (she called him that in her head now) but had cooked a nice dinner two months and two weeks Post Snape, even though the Law had been repealed....just in case.

She had updated her post-menopause potion using his suggestions and tested it. Of course it was perfect. She circulated a few trial vials in the community and was immediately overwhelmed with orders. Draco came in two days a week to help her brew. To keep an oar in the water, he had told Hermione, whatever that meant. Draco hadn’t asked about Severus again after Hermione had told him about her last conversation with him but he had hugged her very hard after they spoke. Then he made her promise never to tell the others he had hugged her.

Three months Post Snape a group of young adults toasted a beaming couple.

“Congratulations!” Shouted Harry and Ginny, raising their glasses. Ron and Persephone smiled at each other in that dopey way that everyone loathes excepting people who are soppily in love.

“To Big Ron and Little Ron!” Toasted Draco, smirking and Hermione elbowed him. Draco grinned wolfishly.

“My mistake, to Big Ron and Disturbingly Enormous Ron!” He revised his toast. They all cheered and drank and Hermione turned to a tapping at the window. She let the owl in who held an envelope marked “HG”.

“Oh bother, I bet it is an urgent order.” Sighed Hermione. She took the envelope and opened it. Another envelope fell out. This one said “In case of interest” in very familiar spiky writing. Hermione caught her breath.

“Hey.” Said Harry coming over. “That looks like...” he shot a glance at Hermione, he’d once had access to a book full of that writing, he could recognise it anywhere.

Hermione opened the envelope and turned it upside down, a piece of paper fluttered down.

“What is that?” Ron asked in confusion, looking at Persephone, who shrugged. Everyone looked at the paper perplexed, except Harry and Hermione.

“It looks like-“ Harry started to say.

“A boarding pass.” Hermione exclaimed delightedly. She bent to pick it up and the wrench of the portkey made her briefly dizzy.

She opened her eyes and she was standing an unfamiliar living room and there was Severus, with his ubiquitous cup of tea.

“Hello.” He said.

“Hello.” Hermione beamed. He smiled.

“I was wondering-“ Severus began.

“Yes!” Hermione said immediately.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Severus laughed, “It could have been that completely degenerate thing.”

“You were going to say that you thought I was funny, smart and kind and that you wanted to do lovely things to my body with your hands and mouth.” Hermione said, trying to speed up the process by unbuttoning her blouse. Severus looked a bit nonplussed.

“Er well,” He said, “Not _just_ my hands and mouth.” He appeared to be vaguely impressed how quickly Hermione was happily shedding items of clothing.

“Sounds delightful. And I think you are funny, smart and sexy and I’d like to do lovely things to you too.” Hermione said and kissed him. After the initial surprise, Severus responded enthusiastically and Hermione was pleased to report back to her libido that his lips were, as she imagined, soft, warm and made her bones melt when he introduced his tongue.

“Bed?” Gasped Severus between kisses.

“Bed.” Hermione agreed.

Later, as she lay half awake, half dozing, Hermione decided she had been satisfactorily spot-on in her hypotheses on his skilful fingers and clever mouth and, well yes, other parts....which she had tested several times.... scientific rigour was important to her....and she rolled over to look at the sleeping man next to her.

“I can feel you looking at me.” Said Severus sleepily, his eyes remained closed but he was smiling.

“Hmmmm.” Hummed Hermione running her hand across his chest and down towards....

“Airport curfew in place.” Laughed Severus catching her hand in his, “All flights currently delayed while refueling.” He reached towards her with his other hand and pulled her to him.

“I have to owl Harry anyway, he probably thinks I was kidnapped.”

“Don’t worry, Draco knows where you are.” Said Severus, Hermione sat up.

“He what? That little.....” Hermione exclaimed and Severus smirked. She looked at his smug expression and smiled. “My sneaky, slippery snakes.” She said affectionately, caressing his face before she lay back down. He rolled over and gathered her up again and sighed happily as she snuggled back into his warm chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue to follow!


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried my hand at an epilogue for this. Hope it suffices. Seasons Greetings!

It was an exquisite day for the wedding of Ron Weasley to Persephone Allgood. The home ground of the Magpies was festooned with a blinding array of decorative bunting in both the colours of the ‘Pies and, naturally, Gryffindor. Harry and Hermione were undertaking their duties as the groom’s attendants seriously and had spent the morning keeping an overexcited Ron calm.

“Ahhh I feel sick.” Said Ron, head in his hands. Hermione rubbed his neck soothingly.

“That’s just the feeling of being overdosed on happiness.” Said Hermione seriously. Ron groaned and bent over.

“I’ve brushed up on Cleansing Charms in case you want to spew.” Said Harry helpfully.

“Here, I brewed you a Calming Draught.” Said Hermione as she passed him a vial that Ron downed immediately.

“Ron.” Said Harry. “Getting married is just putting a legal bind on something you already know. You love Seph and she loves you, there is nothing to be nervous about.”

“I just want everything to be perfect.” Said Ron.

“If you turn up and don’t throw up on her during the binding, that’s all a witch could ask for.” Said Hermione seriously. Ron laughed.

“It’s a night for love Ron. Remember that.” Harry said quietly and he squeezed Ron’s shoulder. Ron nodded.

“Ok. Right. You’re right. I’m ready.”

——————————

Maybe the sick feeling was catching, Hermione thought to herself while she and Harry stood with Ron, as he and Persephone were bonded. She felt very weepy during the vows as the magic swirled around Ron and Persephone and they sealed the vows with a kiss. Both her beloved boys—men now she supposed—were happy and that made her happy. Definitely an overdose, Hermione thought. She hadn’t developed a tolerance for it......yet. The last few months had been wonderful, and yes, wonderfully decadent as well, she laughed internally. Draco had been pressuring her to open a second shop specialising in potions for witches on the back of her success with her menopause potion. She’d also released a line of potions that were safe to use by pregnant witches and they were constantly on back order. Draco had scoped out potential locations and sent her regular nagging owls, increasing his investment offers each time. Hermione had raised the suggestion with Severus to garner his opinion, but he had simply shrugged and said that with her talent and drive she could do anything she wanted and he would support her. Hermione knew there and then she was definitely very disgustingly in love with him and couldn’t quite resist telling him enthusiastically, then just had to check whether his blush ended at his neck or whether it went lower. The only snag was Severus’s survival was still only known to Hermione and Draco, he’d shown no desire to rejoin Wizarding Britain. As much as she enjoyed having him all to herself, she did worry what this meant for the longevity of their relationship.

She wondered how much Harry suspected. Draco had covered her sudden departure from the engagement party by claiming he’d organised a surprise portkey to her parent’s ruby wedding anniversary party being held in Australia. It actually _was_ the date of her parent’s ruby anniversary, although they didn’t actually hold a party, but Hermione had learnt not to ask Draco _how_ he knew things and just accept he did. Hermione sighed and returned her attention to the binding.

Molly Weasley patted Arthur on the back tenderly as he sobbed loudly once the binding was complete. Mr and Mrs Allgood were celebrated with raucous cheering and showers of sparks from wands and then it was time for the post-celebration to begin.

——————————

“What is it with you and Malfoys anyway?” Ron asked as he nodded towards Hermione’s wedding date, Draco’s cousin, who was chatting with Bill and Fleur.

“I have a secret fetish for smug gits.” Hermione said giggling,

“Obviously why we never worked out.” Ron said.

“Obviously.” Confirmed Hermione. “Come on Mr Allgood, let’s dance before your wife snags you again.” She pulled him onto the dance floor

“Mr Allgood. I like the sound of that.” Said Ron as he put his arms around Hermione and he stepped on her toes far less than he ever had in the past

“You’ve been practicing.” Complimented Hermione, and Ron laughed. They danced in companionable silence for a while.

“May I cut in?” Hermione looked up at the handsome blonde who was smiling at her over Ron’s shoulder. Ron graciously released Hermione, who was immediately gathered up and swept away.

“Oh Mr Malfoy, you’re so forceful.” Hermione faux swooned. He laughed and leant in for a kiss but Hermione ducked out of the way.

“Not with your gross Malfoy lips, yuck!” She laughed, putting her arms around his neck.

“Hmmm, so you only love me for my looks.” Said a polyjuiced Severus.

“I love you in _spite_ of your looks.” Said Hermione sweetly.

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” Severus said and drew Hermione close against his chest.

“Thank you for coming with me today.” Said Hermione, “I know you are taking a risk of exposure, even with your _interesting_ choice of disguise.”

“Draco informed me that apparently blondes have more fun.” Severus said, caressing her back gently.

“Well he would know.” Hermione said, casting a quick eye at the man in question, who was snogging his date at the edge of the dance floor. Severus pulled her close into an embrace again.

“Hermione.” He breathed into her hair. “I love you.”

“Mmmmm.” Hermione said in reply, ignoring whatever ruckus was starting up near them and snuggling in closer.

“I would risk _everything_ for you.” Severus said and his tone was suddenly so serious that Hermione looked up into blue eyes that were rapidly darkening to brown. There was quite a lot of surprised chatter around them now and an increasing level of excited yelling from Minerva McGonagall. He was smiling at her in his uneven way, no trace of Malfoy left.

“Oh!” She said in surprise and he learnt in again for a kiss. This time she responded eagerly and did not even hear Ron boasting to an astonished crowd that he, Persephone, Draco and Harry had organised the big reveal with Snape weeks ago. A night for love indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a quick one in response to my thoughts on how the Marriage Law could play out with if the Minister of Magic was a woman.


End file.
